


Mistletoe Season

by jenny_wren



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Fluff and Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-25
Updated: 2013-12-25
Packaged: 2018-01-06 00:38:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,220
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1100402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jenny_wren/pseuds/jenny_wren
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's mistletoe season at Hogwarts</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mistletoe Season

It was only in December that it was born upon James that Sirius was beautiful. The rest of the year, even Valentine’s Day, he didn’t really notice because to him, Sirius looked like Sirius, even when he was a large, shaggy black dog. And Sirius’ appearance was dear to him because he was his beloved best friend. In December, however, it was forcibly demonstrated that Sirius should be considered overwhelmingly beautiful.

Because December was mistletoe season and practically the whole school went crazy trying to catch Sirius under it. December was also angel season and Sirius was certainly compared to them often enough, along with illuminated manuscripts and marble statues. James often wished he could direct the comparers to a good junk shop.

It was only the second day of December and Sirius had already been cornered by fifteen girls and seven boys, either looking for something to boast about or utterly convinced shoving their tongue down Sirius’ throat would make him fall madly in love with them. Sirius’ face was growing drawn and wary. He had refused to go down to dinner. 

James had taken names and houses. If this year was anything like the last, the Marauders would be busy until June before each of the idiots had been made to feel as miserable and embarrassed as Sirius. 

If he hadn’t known Sirius, James would have said being chased by the whole school was an ideal situation. Knowing Sirius made him think it was a refined sort of hell his family had purposefully inflicted on him by giving him his looks. 

It wasn’t even as if Sirius could complain about being mauled by people he’d never spoken to before and, sometimes, whose name he didn’t know. Trying to push anybody away resulted in derision and spite. James suspected Sirius wouldn’t mind it one bit except for the morons who took it as a challenge. Even Professor McGonagall was in on the act, though she limited herself to a peck on the forehead, which was better than Professor Sprout who swamped Sirius in suffocating hugs.

So Sirius would spend December jumping out of his skin as random idiots flung themselves at him clutching sprigs of mistletoe as flimsy justification. James would spend the month grinding his teeth and hexing the idiots when he thought he could get away with it.

What really infuriated James was that the idiots failed to notice anything about his best friend except for his supposed resemblance to a marble statue. If James wanted to slobber over a marble statue (which he didn’t but the idiots had weird tastes), he would go and buy a marble statue. (The Greek Wizards did a nice line in moving, heated marble statues. James had considered persuading his father to buy a couple for the school as a sort of public service).

The idiots ignored so much of what made his best friend _Sirius_ , that it made James want to scream at them for being so blind. For example, not one of them had noticed that they should cut out the fresh-breath mints because Sirius did not like mint. Or that Sirius was actually shy when it came to relationships and was never seen snogging anybody in public outside of December. Or that Sirius was really rather clever and asking for tutoring, rather than offering it, would get them further, even the sixth and seventh years.

None of them properly appreciated the sheer frustration Sirius could invoke in the mildest of souls. Seeing him wind Remus up to howling point was to witness pure art. James even enjoyed it when he was the one Sirius was aggravating. 

Tickling him breathless in revenge was fun too. Remus tended to pick Sirius up by his ankles, shake him thoroughly and threaten to drop him out the dorm window. James had three galleons riding on Sirius being unhurt as long as he landed on his head.

Nor did any of the idiots grasp the utter menace of Sirius’ reckless brand of courage. The Marauders had all learned to be very careful about casually tossing around stupid dares if Sirius was there. 

Peter’s idle suggestion of stealing Dumbledore’s lemon drops ended in James joining Sirius on midnight broom raid on Dumbledore’s study. Remus’ attempt to put them off the animagus idea by facetiously proposing they spend a night with the dire wolves in the Forbidden Forest was really best forgotten. James never quite understood how he was convinced to accompany Sirius on that jaunt. Probably the mind-numbing terror that if he didn’t, Sirius would go on his own. 

Sirius’ current project was a flying motorcycle. James would say that he’d be unable to watch but he just knew he was going to be with Sirius on the test-flight. (Not that it necessarily meant he had to have his eyes open).

Okay so some of the idiots recognised Sirius skill at Quidditch but even the rest of the Gryffindor team didn’t get the pure joy of setting up a play with a twist of an eyebrow and a smirk. Or the perfect harmony of flying with Sirius, slotting together as if they could read each other’s minds. Mind-numbing terror showed up again when he just knew Sirius was going to pull some ridiculously dangerous stunt. And then Sirius would have the brass neck to try and punch him when James did something even more ridiculously dangerous to make sure Sirius didn’t break his damn fool neck.

Above all the idiots completely missed Sirius’ fierce commitment to those he called friend. As Sirius’ best friend, James was nearly overwhelmed by his loyalty. He stood by James, whatever he decided to do. He had never once said ‘I told you so’ which James thought was positively saintly. If he had allowed it, Sirius would have taken the fall for every prank they carried out. Sometimes he felt Sirius would do anything he asked, so he tried not to ask for much.

The idiots didn’t even understand that it wasn’t Sirius’ beauty that was attractive. Sirius was a male version of his cousin Bellatrix and almost identical to his brother but James would rather kiss cane toads than either of them. 

Sirius was as unlike the inert comparisons of the idiots as it was possible to be. He was always up and moving, leaping about the place like out of control mercury. His scattergun emotions were reflected in his face’s constantly changing exppressions. Actually, if James had to compare him to something, it would be a chimpanzee, although, somehow, that wasn’t as flattering as he intended it to be.

Sirius had a mischievous grin that invited you to join him in the fun. A happy giggle that always made you smile. A wicked smirk that encouraged you to break the rules. James’ favourite expression was a huge luminous smile that lit up Sirius’ grey eyes and did squishy things to James’ insides.

Sirius never smiled like that in December. Which was another reason to hate mistletoe season. So James’ temper was very short even before he found Thom Anderson, Hufflepuff’s enormous seventh year beater, pinning Sirius to the wall under the mistletoe hanging near the kitchens. Sirius’ feet were twitching unhappily as if he wanted to walk back into the wall and hide. James lost his temper.

“Sirius!” he shouted, “What are you doing messing around? We have a dormitory meeting and you’re late!”

Anderson set Sirius back on the ground. 

“Oh Sirius,” he gushed, “You’re so sweet and so cute.”

Obviously Anderson was one of the ones who wanted Sirius to go out with him. James’ temper spiralled even higher. At least the ones who only wanted to say they’d snogged Sirius didn’t pretend to care about him.

James darted around Anderson and grabbed Sirius’ wrist.

“Now Sirius!” Tugging on Sirius wrist he yanked him back towards the Gryffindor tower. They didn’t stop until they were safely inside their dorm with the door locked. Mistletoe was banned inside the Marauder’s room.

Sirius’ hung his head, looking dejected.

“I’m sorry I’m late James.”

“Merlin, Padfoot you are in a bad way if you can’t tell I just said that to get Anderson to sod off.”

“Oh. Thank you then. Look James, I’m tired, I think I’ll go to bed now.”

“What about dinner?”

“I’m not going in the Hall and you saw how successful my attempt to sneak down to the kitchens was.”

“How I about if I go and get you something?”

“Thanks, but I’m not really hungry.” Sirius drooped miserably on his bed.

James was so achingly furious he truly couldn’t see anything but red for a moment. As a red-tinged Sirius came back into view, he drew his wand.

“ _Rosea, Rosara_.”

“Yowch,” cried Sirius, clutching his face with both hands. “What the hell was that Prongs?”

“Desperate times, call for desperate measures. You’ll see in the morning. Now if I make up some hot chocolate, will you drink it?”

“Would you?” said Sirius gratefully, “Anderson must have gobbled Super-Blazing Mints. My mouth still feels like it’s on fire.”

James grinned tightly. “Don’t worry Sirius, everything will be much better tomorrow.”

“If you say so,” said Sirius, patently unconvinced.

 

The next morning Remus loud yelp woke them all up.

“What’s the matter?” asked James smugly. Remus stood by Sirius’ bed, clearly in the process of shaking him awake.

“Padfoot, what the hell happened to your face?”

“Huh,” said Sirius.

James clambered out of bed and picked up the hand mirror he found the night before. Silently he handed it to Sirius and watched the grey eyes go wide in disbelief.

Sirius, who’d never had a spot in his life, had the most virulent case of acne James had ever seen. Puffy red and oozing white spots covered his chin, cheeks and forehead.

“This was your surprise?” demanded Sirius.

“Uh-huh,” said James nodding proudly.

Sirius’ devil smirk and wicked eyes made the acne seem irrelevant.

“Prongs you are an utter, sodding genius. I take back every bad word I ever said about you.”

“Thank you.” James bowed modestly. “Wait a minute, what bad words?”

“No, no, no,” said Remus, “You two don’t get to have one of your pointless arguments yet. Explain what is going on here for the benefit of those who are feeling slow this morning.”

“James is downright brilliant and I totally adore him,” declared Sirius, happily bouncing out of bed and over to the bathroom.

“He seems unusually chirpy for mistletoe season,” said Remus.

James beamed, “I do my small best.” He could almost see Remus’ brain ticking over.

“You did… You deliberately… Merlin in a mini-skirt!”

“I did. And I would like you, as official prefect, to carry Sirius’ tale of woe to McGonagall and suggest, for his numerous crimes and shocking big-headedness, that she leave us to sort it out between ourselves.”

Remus blinked. “You are an evil mastermind, James Potter, and I hope you never have cause to plot against me. How long will it last?”

“Until January the first. It’s no time for half-measures. Now go work the Moony-magic on McGonagall.”

“Aye, aye Captain.” 

Remus turned back, “You do realise they’ll all hate you?”

“And I should care why exactly..?”

“No reason.”

 

Professor McGonagall actually met them in the Gryffindor Common Room. She appeared to be trying not to laugh. Sirius ran over to her and poured out his story much with clutching of his head and appeals to the heavens. McGonagall was unmoved by his desperate imploring not to disappoint his fans. Well-primed by Remus, who deserved an extra-large Christmas present, she declared it would be good for Sirius’ humility and that she had no intention of interfering in a dormitory row.

Sirius’ fans were devastated. Before they decided Regulus was almost as beautiful and would do almost as well. Sirius’ brother swanked and smirked like anything. Feeling generous because it was Christmas, Sirius pretended it annoyed him.

James made sure to complain loudly about Sirius’ sudden (but imaginary) habit of waking him at six o’clock in the morning with a serenade of out-of-tune Christmas carols. McGonagall was so chuffed with the idea of them punishing each other that they escaped at least three detentions they fully deserved.

They had never had such a merry Christmas.

 

They spent January the first quietly; their heads were still resounding from ringing in the New Year. As they prepared to go to bed, at the shockingly early time of half-past nine, James perched on Sirius’ bed in his pajamas.

“Last day,” he said, reaching up to trail his fingers across Sirius’ acned skin.

“I know. I think it will be good. Stares of disgust aren’t much better than stares of desire.”

“I would have taken it off the moment you asked.”

“I know that Prongsie, it’s why I didn’t ask. Was the best way to be spend mistletoe season, in my opinion. I’ll just be glad when everything gets back to normal.”

“Me too.” 

Mistletoe season had ended the day before, but some of it’s magic was still in the air. James couldn’t resist leaning forwards and pressing a feather-light kiss to Sirius’ scarred cheek. Shifting back, he watched Sirius with anxious eyes. After an instant’s confusion, Sirius smiled, that wide luminous smile that warmed James right to his toes.


End file.
